To the IRS and NYS in a few months, I will write off 67 drinks purchased aboard the vessel Anthem of the Seas and private island CocoCay during a Royal Caribbean cruise last March, where I was developing my experience into what I hoped would become a new tradition of nonfiction travel writing.¹ Unfortunately then Lauren and then Gary and then even Maria on my own website beat me and now the genre is dead.²

¶. Through November 14: a musical which began below deck in the crew bar of a cruise ship, presumably at a cast party for For The Record™ The Brat Pack Live aboard the Norwegian Escape en route to (or possibly from) Bermuda, and is likely to go places

The Tank, Chelsea, NYC, $25–45

It’s got some Monty Python with some Holy Mountain, some Unfinished Swan, and puppetry. It’s got Golem With One L and An E (from Jewish folklore) who owns the only independent Tropical Smoothie bar in the Southeast USA, and I have just been informed by the drummer that I left during intermission thinking the show was over (it was that strange). Will report back on the second half after Monday.

My grandma texted me hadn’t gotten an email from me in over a week and feared I was dead, so I guess it’s time for Geistlist. Unsubscribe at the bottom.

Oh real quick: I’m involved in another Kickstarter. We’re making theawl.com (RIP): The Book (OMG). I’m designing it!

$. Roll 10 dice, donate the total

every Saturday & Sunday at 10:30pm in the West Village, NYC, but see below

It’s easy to see the future. Challenge is not overcompensating for it now.

Once you’re a regular anywhere you can portend the goodbye note on its Instagram account and then countdown note on its door. Every party has its hangover, some sales are final, and everyone you love is gonna die. Saturn’s rings will eventually dissolve, and John Boswell’s video of it happening is what inspired that lyric: pre-grieving is good practice for recalibrating your now; the only trick is not to get stuck in what’s not yet.

Crest Hardware has five days left in its 22,646 day run¹. Most of you haven’t been there, but if you have, you know. It’s our big little hardware store in Williamsburg run by Joe and Liza with the staff who will tell you what spray paint is best for graffitting the subway and what houseplant won’t kill you cat, and ask you next time how it went. It was home to Franklin the backyard pig and an African grey parrot named Finlay who probably heard and said more about metals than Apollo could ever hope.

Friday is the last day of business, though there’s not much business left: the entire floor was cleared by Friday to become our farewell dance floor while the staff lounge become a tattoo parlor, and the greenhouse was portapotties and bar.

Caroline Weaver used to run a pencil shop which she gracefully closed in 2021. Now she’s back in physical retail with The Locavore Variety Store, a newly minted lovely little variety shop built upon her blog which sells things made within a hundred miles.¹ Caroline is the charming town shopkeeper of your nonexistent Cohen/Shopsin/Wanamaker memories, and she’s was in the 90s. She’s my hero and yours.

Tonight, we celebrate the launch of a new pigeon book there. Yeah I should have sent this weeks ago but I didn’t. Get off the train now and swoop by.

¶. 6–8pm: Pigeon Book Launch Party

The Locavore / Greenwich Village, NYC / free

This is Geistlist.

Welcome to the newcomers. Thank you to the longtimers.

¶. Today 9pm: The 2024 CNN Presidential Debate, moderated by Crackhead Barney & Friends

free, the internet

Yesterday was Allen Ginsberg’s 98th birthday. If you arrived at the Wilson Avenue subway station between 7:15 and 7:45pm and found the lady with a red parasol, a chaperone would lead you northeast to the edge of New York City where veiled dancers and a jazz guitarist perched on the retaining wedge over the approach to the East New York Tunnel, through which the last LIRR trains traveled sometime around 2010. Some mysterious boxcars sit still on the tracks, stuck between derails. A reciter, from memory, read Howl until the sun set, in three parts. The third was punctuated by kerosene twirled fire. We howled each time the poem did.

In the early peak/pit pandemic Fall I hosted Aaron Wolff and a few friends at the City Reliquary to record New York, Alone: a collection of music and poems and poems to music about feeling alone in the United States’ most populous city. Ginsberg’s My Sad Self was there. We debuted the film the following April. You can watch it if you ask.

Allen Ginsberg hasn’t yet clicked for me but clearly has for the people who create and find the types of underground public benefits that click for me.

This is Geistlist. I am Jacob Ford, and it’s nice you’re here.

Welcome to Geistlist, the newsletter about Things for People that arrives when it needs to.

¶. Tonight 7-10pm: Open VCR Night

Open VCR Night is now the last Monday of every even-numbered month. I'm working on stickers.

Tonight: special guest Brian Thompson plans to drop by. Brian is the Pulit Surprise-winning investigative journalist behind Whatever Happened to Pizza at McDonald’s, and will be accepting any tips you have on whether you tried it, how it tasted, and your favorite VHS tapes from the early to mid-1990s.

As we close the naughty & nice books on 2023 it’s a decent time to remind you where you are, who I am, and why.

If you’re receiving this you

• met me
• found me
• are my best friend
• were found to be interesting by me, and I risked life, limb, and FTC law to add you directly, with vague consent.
• were given The Gift of Geistlist as a last-minute Christmas gift by an anonymous stranger who write your email address on a postcard and sent me $60, and you now have a rare, yearlong, paid subscription to this free newsletter. Thank you, immensely, for your support.

This is Geistlist: the newsletter for you about things by Jacob Ford, increasingly likely to go straight to your spam folder as I fly too close to the spambot sun with my subject lines. Unsubscribe at the bottom. If you’re new here you can read up on past issues and sync future issues to your Palm Pilot.

Salut from Paris, and good morning to you.

Found an Irish pub in the final hour of November with a musician who counted down to December by beatboxing and sleigh belling into what he later informed me is Boss’s hottest new loop pedal called the RC-600.

My Christmas music repository (and this very newsletter, dear readers who make it worth writing) got a shoutout on Mace Griffin’s Independent Study, the last music blog left at the end of the internet.

The scaffolding encasing Notre Dame lights up (and then goes black) overnight on a schedule I cannot determine, and they are painting the Eiffel Tower gold for the Olympics.

Please consider helping me win free money and hang out with good vibes and slow servers on the hot new social network that is definitely going to last: yowza.social. My referral code is FIREY PAGAN CREAM.

¶. Tonight 7:30pm: find an illuminated moonshoe-powered kangaroo in the Philadelphia Zoo

$29, Philadelphia Zoo, Fairmount Park, Philly

I'm back in PA for T'giving, and tonight Catie and I are headed to the Philly Zoo for their annual LumiNature, where they light up all the trees, hide the animals in mysterious back rooms, and hire struggling/thriving actors to become illuminated animal-inspired fursonas, like some kind of child-friendly Burning Man at night.

Are you gregnant? (Pregnant by sexual a partner named Greg.) Please visit www.gregnant.mom. My gregnant new friend Alana is trying to find you.

Oh but re: the subject of this email: this past weekend from Thursday to Sunday was the long-awaited residency of the modern low-volume funk band Vulfpeck at Avant Gardener. Two shows every night, Thursday through Sunday. I was at the last one. A breath of fresh air: started on time, no opening act, no one-more-song ❝encore❞ fakeout. Just fans who love a band all hanging out listening to a rock-tight set. If you saw a bunch of weird Turkish red bath hats on the L train, that's why.

¶. Tonight 8pm: bird jazz

free, Bushwick Public House, Bushwick, NYC

Hello, Jacob Ford here, from Geistlist. You signed up for this semi-occasionally newsletter about Things for People, so now you are receiving it. Unsubscribe below.

A few issues ago I hinted at an event about which I could not say much, on November 9. Now, I can say everything, and you are the first to hear. But first:

¶. Tonight 7–10pm: Open VCR Night

free, Wonderville, Bushwick, NYC

I am back from the national, state, and local forests of Oregon where I shot the overcast eclipse (clouds only enhanced it!—no glasses or lens filters needed) from the central tubercle of the outer lip of a double volcano, and appreciated well-engineered websites designed for the Good Old Internet: not unreliable, just 10kbps. Zoom engineers: insanely great work. Fireflies engineers: you don’t need 2.3MB of JS to load a meeting transcript.

I needed the escape, and I was with good friends.

And despite being off-grid and a thousand miles from anyone I knew that I knew, managed to run into my sister’s nursing school classmate’s best friend’s parents, at the only bar for 30 miles where I also won $20.22 in a 2-bet game of lupine video slots.

¶. Friday 8pm: a folk horror chamber music suite with underwater shadow ghost dance

This is Geistlist: Things for People by Jacob.

Some of you know my mom died at 9:55am last Thursday, in the living room. I was sleeping in at the Lansdale Holiday Inn by the new turnpike entrance, 20 minutes away, after a long week talking to her and deciding if she was conscious, waiting for death to happen. She was with Dad and a sister or two (later confirmed to be two of three). Within an hour, we were all there.

She had had cancer in her brain a long time, and it finally found the stem. We put her body in her favorite red shorts and strawberry top and waited for the laboratory to which she donated herself, who sent men with a minivan. I helped lift, while we laughed and played September and danced and cried. An advantage of donating your body to science is plenty of time for your loved ones to grieve and the potential for them to see you in the same Houghton Mifflin biology textbooks you taught from one day at Souderton Area High School, if you taught at your son’s alma mater.

A memorial service will be 3pm Saturday November 18 at Zion Mennonite Church in Souderton, PA. If any of you want to organize or join a carpool or need pickup from Trenton, reply and I’ll get you all in touch. Please do not feel awkward attending. If you are reading this, you have some sense of me, and she created that. Her name was Valerie, and you are invited to celebrate her.

I am finally and at last back in NYC until the annular solar eclipse, after Woodstock → Cleveland → Gettysburg → Milano → Torino → Parma → Venice → Cornuda → Portland for Swimming Hole → Chocolate Cities CLE launch → DFW Conference → Paul → Shaw’s → Legacy → of → Letters → TypeCon. I’ll write something thoughtful later, I’m late. This is Geistlist.

¶. Now until 10pm: Open VCR Night

tune in / come by

Got a new stack of tapes from many of the above locations, though I’m waiting on a PAL/NTSC converter for the ones I found at the Turin fleamarket.

I didn’t like museums during the early post-COVID reopenings because instead of relaxing me they reminded me of the sisyphean battle of trying to run one in the era. But even once reservations/mask/vaccine signage was finally over the art was largely boring. Grant-offwritten 2020 protest schmuck and Blendermade blockchain bait. Instagram post as gallery mount.

Then last week I stopped by New Museum and I think Good Weird might be back.

In the lobby gallery behind the nonextant coffeeshop is Wynnie Mynerva with what New Museum claims is the largest painting they’ve ever displayed. Odd claim. It’s in two parts and I don’t really get it. But behind the painting (through the split between the two parts) is a slender polished pedestal displaying about 1cm of their surgically-removed lower rib.

Those who have visited my apartment late to hang out after certain St. Marks Comedy shows or catsat for me may have discovered in the bookshelves I Am The Strength of Art, a rare photo and interview book by Shannon Larratt documenting ModCon 1999: the extreme body modification convention. Tucked in the endpaper is a VCD (not DVD, VideoCD: the format karaoke machines run on, with 240p video) of live surgeries performed during the event. I have not yet watched the full thing.

Very well may be the first time since Summer 2015 that I have not been in NYC for more than 5 consecutive days for over a month. Last night I returned from the David Foster Wallace Conference in Gettysburg, and tomorrow I depart to Italy for a fortnight of setting type on an ancient prosecco farm.

Got to screen a forthcoming trailer for a nonexistant Infinite Jest film, a topic of great debate when I took a DFW class 7 years ago with Greg Erickson, as Micahel Schur’s pseudo-film-cum-Decemberists-music-video had just been released. Then it turns out my Open VCR Night creative partner Matthew Hawkins was on the crew, and the filmmaker Justin lives blocks from me and it will soon debut, plus there is a book about it which I am early in possession of.

¶. Eminently–10pm: Open VCR Night

Brooklyn: Wonderville, Bushwick
Internet: twitch.tv/wondervillenyc

This is Geistlist.

It’s been kind of a bucket list entry to be part of an artist residency, and two weeks ago I went on one: a week Swimming Hole Foundation, an old house and new barn built and orchestrated by Debera Johnson nestled between various mountains Catskill, with a group of 6 artists taking apart cassette tape players put together by humans, jamming microphones¹ into the planet to listen to plants and water, and learning how to talk back maybe with machines. I’ll likely be publishing some words/photos/art about that later which will be in here but I haven’t yet because I’m busy:

¶. Tonight 7pm sharp: Mmuseumm Opening Ceremonies

4 Cortlandt Alley, TriBeCa, NYC

The year is February 2023. Instagram is now the exclusively old Millenials hawking their standup shows in flyers ironically designed in MS Paint. You just found a good song on an abandoned deezer.com S3 bucket to add to your Malaisesque Songs About February collection. Gen Z has given rise to the plaintext revolution and is responsible for the return of pagers. This is Geistlist, about Things for People by Jacob.

∞. Colophon

Undersigned continues apace and Sam Kriss wrote the retort and synthesis to and of that Vibe Shift piece, and the followup to all of us talking seriously about hipsters in 2009. I’m thinking of starting a private forum just for people who go to that one brewery in Queens that I like.

¶. Tonight 7pm: Open VCR Night

This is Geistlist. Words about corporeal things.

My friend Jason Stauffer called me yesterday to talk about and induct me into a newsletter/blog that is open to anyone but you have to have a 1-hour phone call with Jason to read it, because the next post is about your call. More to come on that probably later. He writes those blog posts that show up in Google.

¶.Tonight 7pm: Open VCR Night comes to The Grassy Noll

I was invited to tour Open VCR Night to the JFK assassination-themed Bushwick weed shop & bar. Saunter by 7 to 10pm tonight, I found Knockoff Snow White and Knockoff Beauty and the Beast (also featuring Don Quixote + Noah’s Ark) when I swung by Blue Door DVD last week.

It’s your semi-regular somewhat-monthly installment of Geistlist, the decreasingly secret newsletter of Jacob Ford, and kind of a corrupted 4-way merge between nonsensenyc, Garbage Day, shareholder letters, and a church bulletin.

Most of you I know in real life but a growing number I do not, which makes me feel honored and strange. Please don’t feel weird introducing yourself sometime if you’d like, via a reply to this very email or one of the Things below.

The unsubscribe button is always at the bottom—use it if you ever need—and there’s an RSS version too.

¶. The newest podcast

I'm working on a list of where to find VHS in NYC. Suggestions welcome, forgive the naked Markdown (working on it, forever).

Oh and last week it was my turn on the DFW reading group.

¶. Currently: FORT90 Desert Film Collection

twitch dot tv slash wondervillenyc, send an @unitof in the chat and I'll make you feel less weird, or more.

¶. Right now: Open VCR Night

One hour later.
One week earlier.
Roles swapped (Jacob¹ on Twitch chat, FORT90 in the booth)

Get to Wonderville or twitch.tv/wondervillenyc this instant. Goes til 11.

¶. 8pm Wednesday: Come Dy

Did you know DFW wrote a Christmas thing? Just found out. Anyway, I’m leading a discussion group of something else February 13. If anyone understands tennis or will by Feb 13, hit me up.

All times Eastern Standard.

¶. Until 5am: the FORT90 Christmas ______

My pal & lost film collector Matt is currently streaming his annual Christmas S___________ at twitch.tv/wondervillenyc. Say hi in the chat. I’m @unitof.

Welcome to Geistlist, a newsletter about Things for People in Places. Inspired by nonsensenyc, shareholder letters, and church bulletins.

¶. Now: Opening of the Beringia land bridge

There's a land bridge open right now from Twitter to Mastodon and a lot of us are having a lot of fun dancing on it. Feels like Twitter in 2010, or blogs in 2005, or borrowing my crush & bus seat partner's iPod Classic in 2005.

Anyone whimpering about how Twitter somehow die overnight is giving Elon Musk the lowest possible bar for success. The most devastated seem the least likely to remember when Twitter was weird and difficult and crashed all the time; when we invented hashtags and retweets and when you couldn't tweet a photo from Twitter.com.

Last week I spent a long night playing Wingspan with old friends who recently became new neighbors¹. It ended in the modern mixtape tradition of starting a communal Spotify playlist, to be fostered over time with our most thoughtful and annoying submissions and played on shuffle when we meet.

I am devastated to find that Spotify does not have about half of the best songs (notably the bonus track Terminals from Relient K’s Forget and Not Slow Down), defending my position that rare media will never die. As distribution approaches the limit of zero friction, there will always be one notch of effort above the default, and that is where obscure media will live, lost media will disembody, and collectors will reanimate.

To this end: a live-action 1995 Halloween special of The Magic School Bus was vaguely remembered by some, but only in 2016 found on a garage sale VHS. Sadly I don’t have the tape, but if you do please bring it tonight to

¶. Tonight 7pm: Open VCR Night of the Living Dead Media

Good morning, this is Geistlist: the aperiodical about time & spaces to be, compiled without schedule by Jacob Ford, for you.

I write from a suitcase-propped iPad on an uptown E train slouching toward JFK, where an AirBus 5 years and a week from its first flight is currently being refueled. It’s taking me most of the way to a former church where the organ pipes have been replaced by server racks: the Internet Archive. They run WayBackMachine, patron saint of deleted tweets.

The Archive is hosting the Library Leaders Forum, where through a butterfly’s flap of chaotic coincidences, I am presenting a little prototype of something I helped build called BRIET, named after Suzanne. Named by Paul Ford.

Led fearlessly by Maria Bustillos, David Moore, aforementioned Paul, and Brewster Kahle, BRIET’s mission is to convince authors they can sell and libraries they can buy—not license à la OverDrive or Kindle but actually good old-fashioned for-keeps sell and buy—digital books. You can borrow a one I designed now, which the Internet Archive bought from us for a $30 check, just as your library buys printed books. If someone else is reading it, wait an hour and it’s yours.

On August 26, 2012 I drove to Manhattan for the first time without a planned ride home. In my new backyard (Washington Square Park) I introduced myself to Colin Huggins at 8:53am, and at 11:36pm came back to find a cellist playing by moonlight in the middle of the park fountain platform six inches above the waterline, the jetstream for the night turned off.

August 27, 2012 was rainy. I skipped some NYU orientation events to watch a filmshoot, walked to Madison Square Park, and bought my first groceries at the Union Square Whole Foods and carried them home. It (the Whole Foods) is (last I checked) still the midst of an oddly ever-coming-soon renovation and now a miniature Amazon Fulfillment Center, but¹ still has an escalator exclusively for shopping carts and will not be truly dead to me until that’s gone. However the smoke which used to bellow from the hole in Metronome has stopped bellowing, and Metronome‘s periodicity has changed from 48 hours to 1 geological era. It’s the second time it’s been reprogrammed, the first being to New York’s successful bid to not host the Olympics.

I have it on the advice of my mentor and at least three other strangers I’ve asked at bars in the intervening decade that I may call myself a New Yorker with no reasonable objection starting tomorrow.

¶. Every Last Monday: Open VCR Night

Mmuseumm is an unnatural history museum in a former freight elevator shaft. There is a small screen embedded in one of the gallery shelves which plays a loop of videos related to the current exhibitions. Sometimes we add additional footage which acts as artifact itself: video proof of the world’s casual strangeness. The familiar doing the unfamiliar, the unfamiliar doing the familiar.

You are reading Geistlist,
a chronoillogical newsletter
about Things for People by Jacob.

In an early Mmuseumm season around 2014 or ’15—before my involvement—one of the videos was a comedian breaking down on stage. I remember trying for months to identify the footage but never could muster the right search terms. This year, for whatever indexing/language processing/algorithmic reason, it was easy.

When I first saw & met Nathan Repasz a year ago in a friend’s dog’s backyard the memory of the video of Andy came instantly back to me. We have become high-ranking close friends (Nathan and I): he later played my mythical-status 27th birthday, I am designing him a very strange website, and together we are trying to coin linguo-percussive situationism. Hopefully I know what it means once I finally finish The Order of the Third Bird and figure out what’s real.

Been thinking about Scenes¹: the kind you read of your dead art heroes being part of. What sound like casual encounters, fights, hookups, arguments, lectures, and readings in basements and lofts, now imbued with historical weight and teleological surety.

¹ Synonymous to/newly christened vibe shifts?

Friday: in New Canaan I saw a photo of Philip Johnson and David Whitney jumping in their bed (though David did tend to sleep in the Brick House while Philip took the Glass House—they mirror each other, if the mirror had a ⅔ reduction lens), and Andy Warhol was just…there, if you look carefully by a nightstand, being background not foreground.

Sunday: finally got to catch up with my local historian hero and neighbor Ada Calhoun at a book launch event for Also A Poet, which is all about Scenes: documenting them, missing them, growing up with/in them, and confronting your dad for being more invested in them than he seemed interested in you.

Three consecutive days of culturally noncontiguous events this week. So happens they’re all at the City Reliquary where I serve on the board, starting tomorrow evening with the closing party for my proud little exhibition.

¶. Tomorrow 6–10pm: BIRD SHOW Closing

Taxonified incorrectly as science fair, fairly as art show but most specifically as nature exhibition, BIRD SHOW looks at people watching birds, and the birds staring back.

This is its final week, before it makes way for Wonder Woman and her myriad NYC connections.

We at the Brick House Cooperative proudly today revealed my redesign of thebrick.house front page: a triptych folding-grid apparatus with a lot of weird stretchy layout logic, inspired by deconstructed old Scribner’s front cover with two later additions McMansioned onto it.

Speaking of good writing floating in just the right unadvertised corners of the internet, I read a really wonderful ¶ written by Adlan. It’s the first one: How to Party with Garret Mukai.

When I design image-heavy layouts I often make use random-image placeholder services like placekitten.com to test image cropping out, but now in this polyptych research rabbit hole I instead want one that serves up a random @BoschBot. Maybe I’ll code that, probably I won’t. Thing’s like the Infinite Jest of medieval paintings: the feet have feet.

One of my prepandemic well-publicized secrets was to force myself up on a bike to MoMA by 7:00am on first Wednesdays. The museum had a monthly early-morning yoga thing in the lobby atrium there that attracted a lot of yoga-type people but I would skip right past that to the fifth floor and have Starry Night all to myself in an empty gallery it seemed nobody else knew was opening during the big-name-yogi yoga.

This is Geistlist.

The Newsletter about Things for People by Jacob.

Like Facebook Events without the other people, nor the Facebook.

Now with its own domain: geistlist.email. Share tastefully.

This Geistlist. For you. By Jacob. About things. Unsubscribe at the bottom.

¶. Open VCR Night

Monday 7-9pm at Wonderville in Brooklyn.

1. BYO VHS
2. Anyone can eject at any time.
3. If you eject, you must insert table.

BIRD SHOW is a museum exhibition curated by Jacob Ford.

flight paths of birds, people, and bird people in the city

It opens Friday evening, and I hope to see you there.

I am curating a museum exhibition.

BIRD SHOW
flight paths of birds, people, and bird people in the city
at the City Reliquary in Brooklyn
March – Julyish 2022
curated by Jacob Ford

As in, frantically curating right now, as I type. Figuring it all out as I hang but here’s what I know and what you can etch in your calendar:

BIRD SHOW Opening Party
March 18, 6 – 10pm
370 Metropolitan Ave.
Free

Hello.
Geistlist.
Newsletter.
For People about Things.
Unsubscribe at the bottom.

¶. Millennial/Boomer Drinking Club

Reading this right now and in NYC? Just us in an hour at Lynn's place..
Reading this right now and not in NYC? Watch my crappy stream
Not reading this right now? Watch my crappy rerun

¶. Book

Hi it’s Geistlist again.
Psueoperiodical newsletter.
About Things.
For People.
By Jacob.
Unsubscribe at the bottom.

¶. Buy This Book

Two installments ago I told you about a PDF I designed which we sold a the Internet Archive for $32. Now it’s time to sell it to you, as a 222-page printed book, for the same price. That’s kind of the point.

Buy it on Kickstarter.
Read about it on The Nation.
Read it for free on the Open Library.
See it spin on the Brick House front page.

Spent my last week biking rapid tests to bartenders, baristas, performers, and other friends so they could get some peace of mind (or make an informed decision) before heading to family or whatever.

Unfortunately had to break a few laws to do that. Long story. If you’ve had a drink with me in the past 11 months, I’m sure I’ve ranted it to you.

Anyway, remember kids:

1. You can’t spread COVID (masked or not) if you don’t have COVID.
2. Negative antigen test = you’re noninfectious to others at that moment (this is possible even if you are infected with low titers, which a PCR would pick up).
3. Positive antigen test = you can spread COVID (masked or not).

Hi everyone.

Thinking about the time I was stuck in a very slow-moving elevator with Casey Neistat, discussing for 4 minutes the difference between 6:00pm and 6:05pm. Because is there one, really, like, culturally and ethnographically speaking? Casey won.

This is Geistlist. It is a semi-secret mostly infrequent newsletter about things I do, for people I know. I'm Jacob Ford. You're receiving this because I've met you and think you're interesting. Here's hoping you do too.

¶ Like 3 months ago: we sold a book to the Internet Archive

Hi friends, Jacob here.

This is my quite informal newsletter of life and life-adjacent updates which until very recently was just a bunch of emails copypasta’d into Gmail’s BCC field. Now, it’s an all growed up text-only newsletter, mostly CANSPAM compliant and all.

It’s called Geistlist, and you’re on it.

I’m cohosting the inaugural Brooklyn Eyelympics tonight, a tournament-style staring contest with live commentary from the sports desk of local drag queens Misty Meaner & Mocha Lite.

7pm in the City Reliquary backyard $15 at the door Free for Reliquary members Competitor signup ends at at 7:30pm.

All are welcome to compete. Bribery of referees will be overlooked.

You've received this email because you are on Geistlist, a secret newsletter written aperiodically by Jacob Ford, about things and sent to people. If you do not want to be on Geistlist you can unsubscribe below.

On Friday, June 25, Jacob Ford will celebrate his 27th birthday at The City Reliquary in Brooklyn, New York.

You are invited.

The theme is The Museum of Jacob Ford.

Hi friends.

Jacob Ford here. We’ve met at some point and I think you’re interesting, and somehow I got your email. That’s how you’re on this secret by-invitation-only email list.

It’s now outgrown the homely BCC field to become an actual bona fide newsletter with a CANSPAM Act-compliant unsubscribe link down there at the bottom. Powered by my friend Justin at Buttondown. But I assure you: this list is still highly exclusive, extremely underground, and very cool.

Right now I’m trying to save a tiny museum.